Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series (21 page)

Tamryn pointed at the gas. She didn’t know whether it was a deadly concoction or not and suddenly wished she hadn’t hidden from the camera’s view. If the pirates wanted her as a hostage, they wouldn’t be pumping deadly gas into the bridge, but if they didn’t think she was in the room...

Makkon gripped her arm and pointed toward the floor. “Get down.”

He followed his own advice and crouched low beside the door, his rifle at the ready.

Tamryn hesitated, wanting to do more. They couldn’t simply sit there and hope they wouldn’t die. Brax seemed to be of the same mind. He leaped onto a console, tore a vent open, and angled a pistol so he could fire into the shaft.

“That won’t do anything,” Tamryn said. “Try to cover it.”

Brax snarled but looked around. “With what?”

Good question. “Maybe a shirt?”

She doubted mere fabric would stop the gas. Unless they stuffed a
lot
of shirts in there, enough to block the passage. Her gaze fell upon the pile of corpses, but she shied away from the idea of disrobing them. Wasn’t it bad enough that the captain had already been stripped of his dignity? Still, if it meant their survival, didn’t they have to try? She stood and pointed at the pile.

Brax dropped to the deck, but uncharacteristically, he stumbled. He shook his head, as if to clear it of cobwebs, then walked toward the dead officers. By the time he made it to them, he was stumbling again.

“Damn it,” he cursed, his voice slurred. “I breathed... too much...”

He collapsed next to the dead men.

“Makkon,” Tamryn said, shifting back toward him. But her own voice sounded slurred now, too, her movements slow. She wasn’t that close to the vent, but the gas must be spreading quickly.

Makkon still crouched low by the door, his eyes half closed. The third Glacian squatted behind him in a similar pose. They looked like statues, barely breathing. That wouldn’t help unless the pirates came in before they had all dropped unconscious—or dead. And after Makkon’s men had killed so many of their men, it was doubtful they would underestimate the Glacians.

“We have to...” Tamryn shook her head slowly. Her mind and her chest felt as if they were stuffed with cotton. She dropped to her knees, partially because she remembered Makkon’s warning to stay low, but mostly because her legs were no longer working correctly.

“Makkon.” On all fours now, she met his eyes. Whatever she had meant to say, and she wasn’t entirely certain herself, it did not come out.

She slumped to the deck, all awareness of the world and herself disappearing.

• • • • •

When the door to the bridge whispered open, Makkon was almost too far gone to react. He had slowed his breathing and his heart rate, meditating to still the needs of his body in the hope that the gas would not affect him so quickly. It had taken all of his willpower not to rush forward to help Tamryn when she had toppled to the deck, but there wouldn’t have been anything he could do.

Several sets of footsteps sounded in the corridor behind the open door. Four. The air still stank of chemicals, of whatever that gas was, and the owners of those footsteps were waiting to come in.

“How do we suck it back out?” someone asked.

“Just let it dissipate,” came the response, the voice familiar. That was the pirate impersonating the Fleet captain.

A rifle poked through the doorway, right in front of Makkon’s eyes. A surge of adrenaline rushed through him, driving away the meditation. He took a breath, and his lungs, which he had denied air for the last couple of minutes, sucked it in greedily. Hoping it wasn’t still tainted enough to slow his reflexes, Makkon leaped for the holder of that rifle.

He crashed into the pirate as the man had been leaning in to check the bridge. Makkon tore the rifle from his grip and slammed the back of his arm into the man’s head. His movements felt slow, but they were still faster than the pirate’s. His target’s head struck the wall with a heavy thud.

Aware of other men in the corridor, men who were taking aim at him, Makkon gripped the dazed pirate like a shield. The others hesitated to fire at their comrade. Makkon hurled the startled and squawking man toward his foes, then charged after the flying body. Three of his enemies went down in a pile, one of them the gray-haired pirate who had been talking to them. The fourth man skittered back, evading the mess, and fired. Makkon ducked as he shot his own rifle. The enemy’s laser blast zipped just above his head. His own aim proved true.
His
laser burned into his target’s unarmored chest.

Someone stomped out of the bridge behind him. Makkon didn’t have to look to know it was Rebek, the other hunter who had been smart enough to try and outwit the gas. As one, they descended on the remaining three pirates, crushing them with all the mercy of an avalanche. Makkon didn’t know why the pirates wanted Tamryn, but the fact that they did left cold fury burning in him. He slew all three men, leaving little for Rebek to do.

With a rifle in each hand, Makkon stared down the corridor toward the lift, wondering if more men were on their way.

Rebek grunted, looking at the carnage. “I see you haven’t forgotten how to hunt in close quarters.”

“Just like the tunnels back home,” Makkon said, slowly lowering the weapons. Nobody else was coming forward to challenge them.

“Should have kept that one alive.” Rebek prodded the gray-haired pirate with his rifle. “Questioned him. What’s he want with your girl? She’s just some lieutenant, isn’t she?”

It was a valid point, but Makkon refused to feel bad about some pirate’s death. “I don’t know, but I’ll find out another way.”

He strode back into the bridge. Neither Brax nor Tamryn had stirred yet. They had inhaled far more of the gas.

Makkon picked up Tamryn, concerned by the blood smears on the deck under her. Though she hadn’t complained, that puncture wound of hers was deep; she needed medical attention.

She did not stir as he lifted her, but he felt her shallow breaths as she lay in his arms. He imagined kissing her to awaken her, then having her smile up and him, hook her arms over his shoulders, and return the kiss.

“Guess I get to carry Brax, huh?” Rebek made a sour expression.

His comment dashed Makkon’s fantasies, which was a good thing. He doubted Tamryn’s reaction, if she woke up with his lips pressed to hers, would be quite as he had imagined.

“That’s what you get for being slow.”

As Makkon turned toward the door, Brax’s comm pin beeped.

“We’ve got engineering, sir,” Dornic reported. “No losses on our part.”

Makkon juggled Tamryn in his arms so he could activate his own comm. “Good work, Dornic. Brax is taking a nap now, but I’m sure he’ll approve too.”

“A nap?”

“I’ll explain later. Have your team sweep the rest of the ship, level by level, take down any remaining pirates. We’ll consider what to do with our captured craft later. Our team is heading back to the hatch. Someone better get back to the station before any trouble breaks out there.”

“Yes, hunt leader.”

Reminded of the station and their hostages, Makkon switched channels. “Zar? Everything all right over there?”

Several seconds passed with no response.

A chill went through Makkon. Those scientists couldn’t have overpowered Zar, could they have? Or outsmarted him somehow? Thus far, they hadn’t been much trouble, but there were still thirty of them, and they were presumably intelligent people.

Makkon looked down at Tamryn, wondering if she knew anything, but sleeping women kept their secrets. Besides, she had been with him for the last few hours. She probably hadn’t been informed as to any plans.

“Zar,” Makkon repeated. “If you hear me, answer me.”

Wherever he was, Zar remained silent.

Chapter 15

Tamryn awoke in Makkon’s arms, the familiar gray ceiling panels of the station drifting past above her. Having Makkon holding her to his chest was less familiar. She did not want to admit that she didn’t find it all that horrible, so instead, she lifted her head, trying to figure out what had happened. She spotted Brax walking behind them. Brax looked groggy, but nobody was carrying him. He was speaking irritably into his comm unit, trying to raise one of his men who wasn’t responding.

“We defeated the pirate captain and his people,” Makkon murmured to Tamryn.

The way he gazed down at her through half-lidded eyes made her think he expected a response. Some acknowledgment of his bravery and battle prowess? She was glad the pirates had been defeated, especially if it had happened before the leader shared information about her family, but that only meant that she and Makkon were back on opposing sides now. She shouldn’t be enjoying the feel of his muscles pressed against her, and she certainly shouldn’t be letting him carry her.

“Good,” she said. It was all she could manage. “Can you let me down? I can walk.”

A hint of disappointment flashed through his blue eyes, but he stopped to lower her to the deck. She felt bad that she had hurt his feelings, even though she knew she shouldn’t. It was his fault he had taken over her station and killed everyone, not hers.

Her legs wobbled, but she did manage to stand with the help of a bulkhead. Her time unconscious hadn’t done anything to make her puncture wound feel better, and she had to clench her teeth to keep from hissing with pain when she moved her shoulder. Blood saturated the top of her T-shirt, but the Gar-zymes woven into the material should be working on cleaning that. Her injury, on the other hand, would require some outside assistance to heal. She wished she had seen that shrapnel coming and dodged it. Still, her injuries could have been much worse, since she didn’t have the men’s superior reflexes or superior
anything
. Getting involved had been foolish. Still, she had felt obligated to assist against the pirates, especially after seeing the bodies of those Fleet officers shoved up against the walls of the corridor like so many crates that had been pushed out of the way.

Brax glared around Makkon and at her, probably annoyed at the delay. At least he didn’t grab her by the back of the neck.

Tamryn forced her jelly-like legs to propel her down the corridor toward the lounge. Her muscles trembled slightly, and she didn’t know if it was an aftereffect of the gas or an aftereffect of the battle. During the fighting, she’d been furious, terrified, and nervous all at once, so much so that she’d almost thrown up on the back of Makkon’s boots early on. If not for the fury, she didn’t know if she would have gotten through the chaos and performed respectably. She’d never been one to freeze or choke in a contest or sports competition, but this had been her first time in anything except simulated battles, practice games during the academy field exercises. As she had found, hunting human beings was very different from hunting ducks. Even now, her stomach roiled at the memory of people dying by her rifle, the horrified and agonized expressions on their faces as they fell.

The Glacian who had been on the bridge with them jogged down the hallway toward them, coming from the lounge.

“Empty, sir,” he said. “Except for one of the wounded soldiers. They must not have been able to carry him along.”

Tamryn kept her face neutral, though she perked up inside. Had Porter and the others escaped?

“Zar?” Makkon asked while Brax swore.

“Not in the lounge, sir.”

Brax cursed again and looked to Makkon. “He wouldn’t have abandoned his post, would he?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I can’t believe they would have overpowered him.”

They reached the door to the lounge, and Makkon nudged Tamryn to direct her inside.

“I’ll look around,” he told Brax and tilted his head toward the lounge.

Tamryn leaned against the wall next to the door, feeling pleased but also stunned that the others had escaped. She wondered where they had gone. It stung not to have been told, but the plan might have been formulated hastily when the pirate attack had started. She told herself that it didn’t mean anything that Anise hadn’t hinted of anything to her. Still, a part of her wondered if the scientists had seen her talking with Makkon and being out of the lounge often enough that they had questioned her loyalty. That would be unbearable.

As Brax glared at her, Tamryn told herself it was better this way, that she didn’t know where the others were. Whatever they were doing, they wouldn’t need a lieutenant fresh out of the academy to help them. Besides, Makkon had probably spent enough time with her by now that he could track her anywhere on the station. She wouldn’t want to lead him to the others again, especially if they had a plan and were doing more than hiding.

Makkon stalked around the lounge, his gaze toward the floor as he occasionally crouched to peer at something or touch something. A few times, he brought his fingers to his nose. He gave a long considering look to the wounded soldier lying unconscious near the portholes—Gruzinsky—and Tamryn shifted uncomfortably, worried the Glacians would interrogate or kill him because he had been left behind. The repair kit she had left working on his abdominal wound would have made progress in the past hours, but he had probably been unconscious for the entire escape.

As Makkon continued checking around the lounge, Brax spoke on his comm, giving orders to his men, who were apparently finishing up on the pirate ship. “Check the comm stations,” he said. “They’ll try to send a message to their headquarters with our numbers, numbers that are much smaller than I led them to believe when I sent our message. Either find a way to sabotage the equipment so they can’t use it, or leave someone there to guard it. After you’ve made sure the main and auxiliary stations can’t be used, find those prisoners. Next time, we’ll lock them in a vault. A small vault.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And look for Zar too. I don’t know where he is, but he should have reported in before leaving his post.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tamryn closed her eyes, feeling as if the wall at her back was the only thing keeping her from collapsing from weariness. She made herself walk over to check on Gruzinsky. Brax’s gaze followed her, but he didn’t try to stop her. Makkon was returning to him, a dark smudge on his fingertips. Blood? No, it looked more like some powder, but he passed her before she could get a look.